


In Which a Certain Miss Crocker Bites Off More Than She Can Chew

by thymelord



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon Mute Character, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Hook-Up, Humanstuck, Mild Juggalo Shaming, Painful Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Unsafe Sex, revoked consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26199877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thymelord/pseuds/thymelord
Summary: Jane spots Kurloz Makara in a club one night, and becomes instantly infatuated.Unfortunately, Kurloz isn't exactly a gentleman.
Relationships: Jane Crocker/Kurloz Makara
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27
Collections: Sloppy Seconds 2020





	In Which a Certain Miss Crocker Bites Off More Than She Can Chew

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MamaSheepy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaSheepy/gifts).



Ever since Jane spotted him, she’s been obsessed.

She doesn’t crush on people often, but when she falls, she falls _hard,_ as a certain Jake English could testify. Her infatuations are all-encompassing, consuming her like a wildfire.

Jane had first seen him around a fortnight ago. Roxy had dragged her to a goth club, the enigmatically-named _Grand Highblood._ Not one to pretend to be something she’s not, Jane turned up in her usual attire – a pastel-blue T-shirt that happened to show off her large bust admirably, and a high-waisted A-line skirt. She spotted him across the dancefloor, leaning against the wall and holding a cocktail that looks black in the dim lighting. When he raised it to his lips, it caught the light, and Jane discerned a dark purple hue.

Someone crossed the floor in front of her, obscuring her vision, and she made an irritated noise in the back of her throat, craning her neck. By the time she had a clear view again, the stranger was gone.

She tried in vain to look for him the rest of the night, but refused to tell Roxy what – _who –_ she was searching for.

Jane had barely seen him for more than a few seconds, but it was enough. She’s obsessed. The way the light played across his face threw shadows over the high, sharp planes of his profile, and the image of his face flashes across Jane’s eyes whenever she closes them. His face paint had been difficult to make out, but Jane could tell it was clown paint rather than the corpse paint a few of the other club-goers sported.

Jane hopes he’s not a juggalo, but he’s hot enough that she could let it slide.

When Roxy and Rose ask Jane if she wants a night out again, two long weeks after, Jane immediately jumps at the chance. “The Grand Highblood?” she asks, earning two twin incredulous stares from the Lalondes.

“The goth club?” says Rose. “You’re the least goth person I know!”

Jane’s golden-brown skin flushes slightly. “I like the vibe! And they have the tastiest cocktails.”

Roxy seems to accept this explanation, but Rose continues to eye her with an amused sort of suspicion. Jane draws herself up slightly, trying to look haughty; this is difficult, as she’s a pint-sized five foot tall – although if asked, she’d always insist she was five two.

* * *

After an hour at _The Grand Highblood_ with no sign of the stranger, Jane’s starting to get antsy. Although she knows that there’s only a slim likelihood of seeing him, she can’t help but feel supremely disappointed. He has to be here, he _has_ to be –

As though summoned by her thoughts, the stranger appears in the periphery of her vision. Her head snaps towards him, and oh – he’s _looking_ at her.

Jane’s heart skips a couple of beats. Her first instinct is to look away, embarrassed at being caught, but she forces herself to hold his gaze. She smiles tentatively, even as she tries to seem confident, and the stranger smiles back. He’s closer than the first time Jane saw him, so she has a better view of his face-paint. His pale skin is made even paler by his intricate bone-white paint, and black markings stand stark around his mouth, mimicking stitches and reminding Jane of a gothic Joker. His black lipstick emphasises the curve of his Cupid’s bow; it’s a little smudged, and Jane hopes that’s from drinking rather than kissing.

Swallowing her shyness, Jane makes her way over to him, as casually as possible, as though every square inch of her isn’t positively _burning_ for him. “Hey,” she says nonchalantly. “Love your face-paint.”

The stranger smiles in response, dipping his head slightly.

“I’m Jane.”

The stranger taps his mouth, still smiling, then shakes his head, fishing his phone from his pocket. His fingers fly over the screen, then he holds it out.

‘Hello, Jane. I’m Kurloz.’

Jane tilts her head. “You’re mute?”

Kurloz nods, smiles. Jane wants to ask if he’s mute by choice or necessity, but even in her somewhat-tipsy state she recognises that would be a rude question, so instead she lifts up a finger to trace the lines of Kurloz’s make-up. “So intricate... you must be an artist.

Kurloz nods. ‘Yeah. Just a hobbyist, though, nothing fancy.’ He pauses, eyes glittering. ‘If you appreciate art, you’ll love my tattoos.’ He jerks his head in the direction of a deep crimson door behind the bar. ‘I can show you, if you like.’

 _Oh my God, it’s happening, it’s fucking happening –_ “I’d like that very much,” she says. “But, uh... are we allowed back there...?”

‘No sweat, Janey. My brother owns this joint.’ He tucks his phone back in his pocket and extends his hand. Jane takes it, skin burning where it meets Kurloz’s.

As she follows Kurloz into the room, she tries not to speculate on how many other girls have been in her place; about whether this room is just a place for the club owners’ friends to relax or if it has been purpose-built for Kurloz’s hungry desires.

The room is small, containing a chaise longue upholstered with velvet and a small mahogany table. Jane’s never had sex on a chaise longue before; the notion is almost unbearably decadent.

Kurloz’s hands land hard on Jane’s shoulders, making her sit down. Jane looks up, breathing heavily; for the first time she feels a wave of trepidation go through her. She’s by no means a virgin, but it’s been a while since she’d slept with anyone, and she’s certainly not one to have one-night stands – this would only be her second, she thinks, unless you could the two-night stand she’d had with Jake all that time ago. Of course, she’d hope this thing with Kurloz would turn into something more than a one-night stand, although she knows Kurloz is probably just looking for a one-time hook-up – and that’s perfectly fine with Jane. She’s found the best ways to get rid of these infatuations is to have a good, hard fucking.

Kurloz is standing over her, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his chest. He’s got pierced nipples, gold bars through each one, and his chest is decorated with a beautifully intricate death’s head moth.

“That’s gorgeous,” Jane says, and Kurloz grins. He pulls Jane’s shirt over her head, tossing it carelessly aside, and presses his lips to the top of her breasts as he undoes her bra, sliding the traps down her arms. “Kurloz...” Jane whimpers, and gasps as he pushes her skirt around her hips, pulling her panties down and sliding a finger between the slick lips of her labia. “Fuck, _Kurloz -!”_ She bucks involuntarily into his hand, biting her lip. She can’t stop saying his name – so unusual, so individual, so gorgeous.

Kurloz shimmies his black skinny jeans off along with his boxers, and Jane catches her breath – he’s big. Too big.

Kurloz pushes her down, parting her legs, and now Jane’s starting to _really_ panic. “W-Wait – you’re so big – y-you need to give me some more foreplay or you’ll tear me apart –“ His grin has turned malicious, dark, and Jane swallows heavily. “And – you need a condom – I –“ She screams, partly out of pain and partly out of surprise, as Kurloz shoves inside her none-too-gently. “N-No, wait – Kurloz –“ She beats her fists on Kurloz’s shoulders, claws at his back, but Kurloz is over a foot taller than her and built like a brick shithouse.

Jane gets the feeling she’s made a terrible mistake.

“N- Kur – _Stop –“_ But Kurloz only pounds into her harder, and after the first initial burning stretch, it’s starting to feel good, and Jane doesn’t know what to feel – he’s doing this without her consent, but Jane’s still infatuated by him, and there’s a strange little curl of heat in her belly at the thought of being _taken._ Her brain is telling her she should hate this, but her animal instincts are absolutely fucking loving it. It still hurts, but Jane’s never felt more full – never felt more _good._ “ _Kurloz -!”_

He sucks hard at her neck as he pistons inside her, and Jane’s _lost,_ a litany of moans pouring from her mouth as she clutches hard at Kurloz’s back. “Fuck – fuck –“ Kurloz’ thrusts become shallower and quicker, and recognising the signs of a man on the verge of climax, Jane begins squirming again. “No, no, you can’t cum in me, I’m not on birth control, _please –“_ But then she feels his hot release inside him, filling her up, and she comes harder than she’s ever came in her life, convulsing around him.

Kurloz pulls out, a smirk on his face, and Jane backhands him as hard as she can. “Asshole,” she says, but Kurloz’s smile only widens. He picks up his phone, typing something.

_Here’s my number, if you want to come back for more._

And Jane hates herself for it, but she takes it, entering the number into her own phone.

_Fuck._


End file.
